


Another Way to Know

by afterandalasia



Category: Enchanted (2007)
Genre: Community: disney_kink, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Instructional Sex, Loss of Virginity, Making Love, Post-Movie(s), Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-09
Updated: 2011-07-09
Packaged: 2018-05-31 12:46:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6470488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterandalasia/pseuds/afterandalasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He loves her so dearly, and wants to show her so in every way. When Giselle seems a little uncertain about the idea of sex, Robert makes sure to gently teach her, and she certainly seems to enjoy the lesson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Way to Know

**Author's Note:**

> From the [anon prompt](http://disney-kink.livejournal.com/361.html?thread=1476457#t1476457) at Disney Kink that asked for cute first time fic for Giselle/Robert, with him explaining sex/making love.
> 
> The idea of Andalasia not knowing about sex was one that was around at the time. I know I wrote at least a couple of fics using the trope.

There came a point where, really, he couldn't expect her to sleep on the sofa any more.  
  
It had only been a few weeks, but Robert had surprised himsef by how utterly he had fallen in love with Giselle. The way she smiled, the way she talked, the way she moved. The way that she got on so well with Morgan and seemed so keen to learn everything about New York, although it bemused him sometimes how little she knew about things. He loved dancing with her, or singing with her (She discovered the XBox 360, and some game called 'Lips', and that was it. Though at least he knew the words to some of those ones.), and just spending time with her whatever he was doing.  
  
He couldn't lie, kissing her had to be up on that list as well. The soft, almost tentative movements of her lips; the way that she felt, soft and pliant, pressed against his body. She loved to stroke his hair or trace the line of his lips with her fingers, and had gasped the first time that he had kissed her shoulder, as if she had never thought of such a wild thing. Her fascinated touches of his chest or his arms, or any part of him that she seemed to wish, for that matter, she had no worry with him returning; she let him run his hands around her waist, brush against her hips, even skim over her breasts, all without the slightest shame.  
  
Giselle was never the forward one. He had noticed that quite quickly. He had been the first one to press his tongue to her lips, the first one to stroke her breasts, the one to pull her into his lap when they were making out on the couch. Not that she seemed to mind, not that she even seemed that shy; it was just that the idea did not seem to occur to her until he showed her, whereupon she would gasp with delight and declare him to be so _clever_ , and remember the move for the next time that they were kissing. She learnt fast, you couldn't help but give him that.  
  
He couldn't deny that he wanted more. It wasn't sex; _sex_ seemed too crude a word to put next to Giselle. Making love, now there was an antiquated term, but it seemed to fit rather better than anything else of which he could easily think. He wanted to sweep her off her feet, carry her to bed, and lavish love on her. He wanted to kiss her all over, show her another way to love.  
  
All right, yes, he was starting to verge on blue balls, and he _really_ needed to get a lock on the bathroom because Giselle tended to wander in as she pleased, so that rather ruined any opportunity to deal with things himself. But it wasn't just that; it was _her_.  
  
After a few weeks it became unbearable. Finally, he arranged a romantic night in: he managed to get into the kitchen to cook dinner (a rarity, especially nowadays, but something he could just about manage), lit candles, put on music and cleared the lounge to let them dance, and twirled her up into the air, her skirts fluttering around her legs, as the music soothed to a close around them. The candlelight made the room seem warm and close as he drew her into his arms for a kiss, and she responded enthusiastically, with a little murmuring sound deep in her throat.  
  
"I love you," he whispered breathlessly, and planted the lightest of kisses on the tip of her nose.  
  
"I love you too," she replied, and it made his heart glow. The sweetness with which she said it made it clear, quite clear, that she meant it with every fibre in her beautiful body.  
  
Giselle gave a squeal of delight as he scooped her into his arms, bridal-style. She twined her arms around his neck, gazing on him adoringly as he carried her through to his room. She had been in her before -- it had taken him _ages_ to figure out what she had done with some of his shirts -- but she had made the sofa her home, seemingly willingly.  
  
He tried to nudge the light switch with his shoulder, completely failed, and as she giggled asked with a sigh for her to do so instead. The light flicked on, and he realised that she had done so with her foot, still bare as she tended to prefer.

Picking her up elegantly had been easy, but he could not think of how to put her down onto the bed in a similar way, and instead let her slide to her feet. His fingers brushed her cheek, and she gave one of those bright smiles, letting it rub off on him.  
  
"Giselle," he said softly, "will you stay with me tonight?"  
  
She looked a little confused. "I've stayed here every night, Robert."  
  
He suppressed a chuckle. "I mean in here, with me. Will you... sleep with me?"  
  
"Of course," she said, and kissed him again. She tasted sweet as she let her teeth graze over his lip. He pushed back her hair, soft red hair still tumbling down her back and now once again in curls most of the time. It had been so ever since he admitted that he preferred it that way. Yet, with some regret, he then had to cup her cheeks and look deeply into her blue-green eyes.  
  
"Giselle, do you know what I'm asking?" Still the word seemed so uncomfortable, but he forced it out. "Do you know about sex?"  
  
Her brow puckered, and his arousal deflated. "Sex?" she echoed, and oh lord yes, that word sounded so wrong.  
  
"Making love?" he tried, with a touch of desperation in his voice.  
  
Giselle's eyes lit up again, and she closed her hands around Robert's wrists. "Oh, Robert, yes! Tell me!"  
  
Emotions tumbled in his chest, love and worry and the desperate desire to not take advantage of her. "All right," he said, taking her by the hands and leading her to sit on the bed with him. She interlinked her fingers with his and looked up attentively as he tried to find words for what he wanted to say.  
  
"All right, then," he said. "You... oh man, how do I explain this." He reached up to run one hand through his hair, then stopped, nodding and tapping one hand on his leg. "Yeah. Yeah, okay, I got it. All right." He bent down and pulled off his shoes and socks, whipped off his tie, and threw them all to one side.  
  
"Robert, what are you doing?"  
  
"We'll do this in steps, right? Okay, so you know that sometimes, we kiss."  
  
And before she could say anything, he did so, pressing his lips to hers and then letting his tongue gently part them. Giselle made little breathy sounds as he cupped her chin and let their mouths explore each other, her hands slowly sliding up, and pushing up his sleeves. Almost reluctantly, he broke the kiss again.  
  
"And I can kiss you here--" he pressed his lips to her cheek "--here--" the delicate spot just beneath her ear "--here--" the side of her neck. Her skin was warm, smelling like honey. "But I can kiss anywhere, you know? Like here--" the delicate curve of her shoulder "--or here."  
  
He placed the last of the kisses between her breasts, at the top of her cleavage, as she hitched her breath. Robert looked up again slowly, their faces coming close together again, her breath feathering on his skin.  
  
"You see?" he said, and she nodded. Her fingers brushed across his forehead, then over his cheek.  
  
"So I could kiss you here--" her lips bumped clumsily against his chin "--or here--" her fingers slipped beneath his chin and guided him upwards, so that she could plant a kiss on his Adam's Apple "--or here." She kissed the very base of his neck, the little nook between his collarbones, and heat flashed through him. Then her innocent eyes turned up to meet his again. "Is that right?"  
  
"Yeah," he managed. "Yeah, that's right. And we can slip off your top," he reached round to undo the tie on her top, and she raised her hands for him to slip it off. A little gulping sound escaped him as he realised she was not wearing a bra, and the sweet pale expanse of her skin was unmarked by any sort of tan line. Giselle let her top slide off her body and to the floor with a careless gesture of her hand that made his heart flutter. "And then," as he drew her gently down onto the bed with him," I can kiss here--" her flat stomach, rising and falling gently with her breath "--or here--" the base of her ribcage. "Or I can touch you with my hands instead."

He let his hands trail from her shoulders down her sides, to the curve of her waist and the waistline of her skirt, then round to the centre. With his thumbs aligned, Robert's hands traced up her body once again. Her breathing rose in her chest, light and airy, her eyes locked on his hands for a while and then rising to his eyes instead. Intensity burned in there as his hands slipped up to her breasts, running round in circles and then cupping them gently. Giselle's breath trembled, but her eyes were set on his, as his hands gently worked at her flesh, massaging softly, then rising to take her nipples between his fingers and rub them gently.  
  
"Okay?" He said, and she nodded. "Good, good. You just say if you're not sure." He bent to kiss her breast gently, tongue brushing softly at her skin, then gently touching at her nipple. She gave a gasp of surprise. "This is meant to feel good, okay? To show you how I love you. You can tell me to stop at any time."  
  
"I don't think I want to stop," she replied, sitting up a little to draw him into a kiss again. Warmth rushed through him. "So," one hand trailed gently down his shirt, over the buttons. "Does that mean you need to take off your shirt as well."  
  
Robert let loose a soft laugh and nodded, undoing half the buttons on his shirt then giving up and pulling it over his head instead. He lay down next to Giselle, propped up on one elbow, then as she pulled herself upright he slipped to fully supine.  
  
Giselle's hair trailed over him as she ran one hand down his chest, slow and exploratory. Trailing through the sparse scatter of black hair, feeling for the faint edges of his muscles, tweaking his nipples in turn (though when that made him chuckle, she simply smiled and let her fingers continue downwards). Dipping her head down, she let his lips brush over his skin, as if tasting him, her tongue lapping out between them, and he had to close his eyes and breathe deeply to hold his mind together as her fingers tugged gently at his belt. Sitting up again, she fixed him with a heated gaze, her lips slightly parted so that he wanted, desperately, to take her there and then. Before he could say any more, though, she caught him off guard altogether.  
  
"Does that mean you can take your pants off, as well?"  
  
This was not the time that he was expecting her to show initiative. "Yeah," Robert managed, rather aware both that he was struggling to find breath and that he was struggling to say anything more coherent. ""Yeah, we can do that."  
  
He lifted his hips off the bed to wriggle out of his pants and boxers, as Giselle turned her attention to her own skirt and panties. They ended up in a heap on the floor that she was probably going to tut about the next morning, and then she turned back to him and gave a gasp of surprise.  
  
Aaaaand stared.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
Embarassment and arousal were working together to make him blush, he was sure of it. Giselle was sitting before him bare-skinned and wide-eyed, with much the same look as was on her face when she first saw the DVD player and couldn't understand why it 'ate' the DVD.  
  
"It's a penis," he said, as calmly as he could bring himself to considering the circumstances. His erection sat proud of his lap, and Giselle was studying it with a look of wondering. "It's, well, it's used mostly for lovemaking. It's private, you know? Just for you and the ones you love. Like what you've got there--" he gestured towards her crotch, the neat triangle of red curls, and she glanced down as if in surprise. "That's called a vagina, you see? And they're made to go together."  
  
"Oh!" A smile lit up her face, and she shifted round -- almost straddling over him, and letting a wave of that perfume she wore (he _swore_ that she wore, though he never saw her put any on) drift over him in a way that made him suppress a groan. "I see! So I can touch this as well, when we make love?"  
  
He was about to answer when she took hold of him anyway, and this time he couldn't suppress a gasp. Her fingers still wrapped around his shaft, Giselle looked up worriedly.  
  
"Are you all right, Robert?"  
  
"Oh god, yes," he said, tight-throated. "Yeah, that feels good. Believe me."

Giselle smiled, a smile that might have been a little coy, though he would hardly have believed it from her. She bit her lip, then looked back down to his lap, her fingers slowly tracing the lines of him. Along his shaft, up to the head, pressing against the slit until he hissed. Her eyes flickered up to him, then back down again, as she reached down to explore his balls, then uppermost areas of his thighs. Then an idea seemed to dawn upon her, a smile on her lips, and she started to bend down, her lips parting...  
  
"Stop," said Robert. Giselle looked up questioningly, one hand still wrapped around him, and he struggled to sit up and take hold of her hands himself. "That... that can wait. Come here, come on."  
  
He drew her up towards him, and she flailed and giggled and ended up straddling across him, hands pressed against his chest. The giggles died in her throat as their faces came cross together again, and he tucked her into a kiss. His hands slid down her back, then he reached down and bought one hand up between her thighs and she gasped.  
  
"Robert!"  
  
"Are you okay?" he asked again, fast, only for her to stroke his cheek."  
  
"That feels good," she whispered. "Believe me."  
  
She kissed him again, and as she did so he gently bought his hand to her again. Little gasps and moans came from her throat as his fingers traced her folds and she whimpered slightly, but her hand on his chest told him to continue. She was already wet, slick, and gently he circled her clitoris with his thumb until she was breathless, her hair like a red-gold curtain around them both. His fingertips touched at her entrance, testing, but she tilted her hips against him and he took that, as well, for an unspoken answer.  
  
"All right," he said, and she made a disappointed sound as he removed his hand, "there we go." He kissed her fiercely, hard, and then said without much breath. "You know I said they go together, right?"  
  
"Yes," she whispered, her breasts pressing to his chest, her forehead against his and their noses just touching.  
  
"Okay. This is part of making love. It can be the best part. Are you ready?"  
  
"Please." Like a blessing. "Please, Robert."  
  
He guided himself into her, and her hips bucked slightly, walls clenching around him. He slipped his hands round his waist and drew her down with him, onto the bed. Her hands fell to the bed beside him, her slight breasts swaying as he guided her movements on top of him, her lips parted and eyes hooded closed.  
  
It felt like an eternity, her body rocking against him, blood pounding in his ears. He felt as much as heard himself whisper her name, heard her reply, and then she gasped as she came, one hand grasping intstinctively at his arm. He waited until the tremors had passed, stroking her forehead, and then her eyes opened and locked onto his again. "Robert..." she whispered.  
  
He kissed her, leaning upwards, but continued to guide the rocking of her hips so that she gave a sound close to a whimper, still in the afterglow of her own climax. The sound shot straight to his groin, and with that and the residual clench of her muscles around him he came as well, groaning her name, feeling the hot wetness of their bodies together.  
  
For a few moments after they did not move, breathless, his hand still tangled in her hair and her hand gripping his arm so tight the skin turned pale. Then Giselle seemed to gather herself, and smiled and gave a slight laugh, and bent down to kiss him on the mouth again. Robert responded enthusiastically, then gently rolled them sideways -- she gave a squeal -- and slipped out of her. She pushed her hair back from her face and stroked his cheek, and he smiled warmly onto her.  
  
"I think I like this making love," she said, and he chuckled.  
  
"Oh, Giselle." A kiss to her forehead. "I am certainly very glad to hear that."  
  
She giggled, slightly more weakly, and ran her thumb across his lower lip. "I love you, Robert."  
  
It felt good to hear it, better to say it. Robert's smile grew to a broad grin. "I love you too, Giselle."


End file.
